


Fluorite Octet

by domesticheart



Category: Gravity Falls, Homestuck
Genre: Basically: what if Vriska were a dream demon(???) with a vendetta against Bill, Episode: s02e04 Sock Opera, That's right, Yikes
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-17
Updated: 2015-07-17
Packaged: 2018-04-09 19:47:41
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,459
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4361933
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/domesticheart/pseuds/domesticheart
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>
  <em> She thinks they're made out of some kind of gemstone, because the sides are smooth and faintly cool to the touch, and that they'd be perfect for a magical fairy.</em>
</p>
            </blockquote>





	Fluorite Octet

**Author's Note:**

> This seemed like a good idea a few months back. I'm not so sure, now. There's probably a ton of spelling and grammar errors, but since this isn't going to become a full-blown story... yeah.

Mabel is cleaning out the space under her bed when she finds it.

Stretching her limbs to their fullest extent and with her cheek pressed squishily against the wooden supports of the bed, she attempts to reach a small box. She doesn't remember putting it there or anything about this box, but she's on a mission to make her sleeping area as squeaky clean as possible.

However, the hordes of dust bunnies are rallying their forces against her, making her draw back each time her hand brushes what she imagines to be a spider's web. Everything under there is horribly icky; there's an enormous chance that it has never been cleared out before. Finally, Mabel's hands latch onto the box's corner edge, and after thrashing about a couple times in order to drag it closer, the box is at last secured in her hands.

It doesn't appear to be anything special. Just a small wooden box, with strange, curving characters carved into the sides haphazardly. It looks like someone carved them in with a sword or knife that was too large to do the job well, but she thinks they are kind of lovely. A few symbols she recognizes as the number eight, and so Mabel eagerly blows at the dust covering it to reveal more embedded patterns, a cloud of it flowing up and seeming to sparkle in the sunlight streaming in through the window. Her mouth shapes into a small 'o'. She can't make heads or tails of these letters and signs, but they sure do look pretty!

Without further ado, Mabel tugs the lid open a crack, the hinge popping and immediately falling apart and sending the wooden lid crashing to the floor. It nearly catches one of her toes, but she pulls them back in time, hissing at the imagined stinging pain that she might have felt. Her brown eyes return to the box's contents, and she lets out a soft 'oooh' noise, because whatever is in the box is super beautiful. And a very, very nice blue.

Hands fumbling a bit, she reaches into the box and plucks out a piece of eight-sided dice. Bringing it up to one eye for inspection, Mabel marvels at how it glints and shines in the light, tilting it this way and that to get a better look at the small, rounded dots speckling it. She thinks they're made out of some kind of gemstone, because the sides are smooth and faintly cool to the touch, and that they'd be perfect for a magical fairy. Something about them is distinctly enchanting, that's for sure, and she hardly looks up when Dipper walks into the room.

Her back is to him, hunched over the box and sparkly sweater getting all dirtied up on the floorboards, and so she dumps the rest of the blue dice into her pockets, hastening to her feet and swiping the box back under her bed with a foot. Mabel proceeds to whistle unassumingly, but in a totally assuming way that her twin should easily be able to pick up on.

He doesn't, predictably. He's been all caught up in figuring out the password for the laptop they discovered in the bunker for a while now, it's getting kind of worrying.

Treading softly so as not to disturb him, Mabel scampers out.

8888

Midday finds Mabel sitting in the grass, pushing the dice around and tossing them contemplatively up into the air. The treeline in the distance is dark and foreboding, tree trunks swathed in teal shadow. Stray limbs fall across the tangled shrubs and brambles that lay below.

Nothing special happens when she rolls them, she discovers while playing out in the yard, face puckered in concentration. They only shimmer, as neat as ever, but utterly insignificant otherwise. They are just ordinary dice. She thinks that maybe she can use them for a board game when she has the time, but right now she's got a sock opera to attend to! Gabe won't go on a date with her if she can't pull this baby off— not an actual baby, mind you — and there's still a lot of puppets to be made.

Scrambling to her feet and shoving the dice back into her pockets, Mabel goes to find Candy and Grenda. Maybe she can convince Dipper to help out, too?

Within a round gnarl of the Mystery Shack's siding, eight pupils track her movements, blinking lazily, before sliding shut.

The dice still stuffed inside of her pockets glow.

8888

Things with Dipper don't go so well. They get into an argument, a real nasty one that leaves the sour taste of regret in her mouth, and she watches him storm off to continue trying to crack the laptop's code with trembling fists. But, the show must go on, and she knows he'll be there for her. He's helping out, after all. There's absolutely nothing to worry about!

That is, until Sock Dipper comes to life and tells her about Bill's nefarious machinations on her show! More specifically, the journal, but still. Her show! Mabel's hopping mad about that, but also frightened because the dream demon isn't exactly the nicest or the most fair player in her book. So, she has to hurry and grab the journal before it's too late!

Her footfalls across the top of the stage are fast and light, but the wedding cake prop is hanging just out of her reach. Leaning out across the bar, hands grasping eagerly at the edge of the book, she almost thinks she has it. But then, she spills forwards, getting a dizzying, terrifying eye-full of how high up she is before landing in the cake's built-in basket. Someone catches the rope, preventing her from plummeting to the stage below. Her heart is pounding in her ears, and she can hear the audience murmuring below. It's a full house, and it would ruin her show if she fell down onto the stage. That is, if the fall didn't kill her.

Exhaling a short puff of hair, Mabel turns and tries to clumsily swing back towards the stage top so that she can thank her savior, only to find herself face-to-face with Dipper. Well, not Dipper. Bill-Dipper. Bipper.

His eyes are weird, a sulfurous yellow with slitted, oblong pupils. He tells her to give him the book, and she resolutely refuses, so he threatens to ruin her play by letting go of the rope and letting her drop. When he starts guilt-tripping her over ditching Dipper and generally being an awful sister, her resolve wavers. She moves to give him the book, sending all of the dice in her pockets rolling out and into the base of the cake, their pointed shapes causing friction against the bottoms of her shoes.

Despite all of that, it's a perfect roll. A lucky one.

Bipper lets go of the rope as soon as his hand grazes the journal, easily yanking it out of her grasp. Eyes gone wide and disbelieving, Mabel prepares for the stomach-clenching drop to the stage below.

Grey hands with yellow claws catch the side of the wedding cake, dumping Mabel back onto the relatively safe overhang. A weight lands beside her, stirring up invisible winds, and she looks up to see a girl clad all in orange standing there, a hood curling up behind her head. Beautiful, sparkly-blue butterfly wings bat at the air behind her, nearly larger than the girl herself. She looks back at Mabel, yellow eyes gleaming and a small sun spiraling within. 

Oh. And she's got candy corn horns, the very color of autumn. Can't forget those.

In the blink of an eye, fairy girl's shining all over, blue fire licking across the floor and rising up around her. Her clothes turn black, with cobalt blue spiderweb designs sprawled across it, armored sleeves spreading over her arms and adorning her shoulders. Mabel thinks that she looks sort of like a pirate. Bipper, still wearing that black minister's outfit, takes a hasty step backwards, tugging nervously at his collar. He still has the third journal.

Blue fairy girl's grinning like a maniac, unusually long and sharp incisors poking out from her easy grin, which would be disconcerting if she hadn't just saved Mabel's life. The fairy turns towards Bipper, red boots slightly spread out into a fighting stance, her shoulders hunched as if ready for action. 

A large blue sword appears in her hands, a curved edge at its end that looks deadly and just this side of impractical. "Yeah!!!!!!!!"

Lunging forwards in a way that almost looks like a sprightly, sparkly skip, the fairy socks Bipper in the face.

"WH8T N8W????????" she cackles, promptly disappearing in a plume of fiery light.

**Author's Note:**

> DID YOU GET THE PUN AT THE END???? SOCKS HIM IN THE FACE????? AHA. I AM THE GENIUS, IT IS ME.


End file.
